1968: The RURP on the Yellow Wall
After returning from Yosemite, I settled into a summer job in the dishroom at one of the C.U. dorms, I got my first girlfriend, I could drive, and I wanted to climb the Diamond again. I was a year older and stronger than my first time up there, and ready to try what was thought to be one of the most difficult climbs in Colorado – Kor’s Yellow Wall.
When Kor established the Yellow Wall route in 1962, it was the 2nd ascent of the Diamond. In typical fashion, Kor grabbed any climber who had a pulse and was available to be his belayer, and in this case it was Charlie Roskosz. In 1960, the Californians, Bob Kamps and Dave Rearick*, “stole” the first ascent of the Diamond from the Colorado boys and Kor was eager to make a statement. The climb he established had a pitch rated A4, which at the time was considered the most difficult grade for aid climbing. The Yellow Wall had a big reputation in 1968 and that was the climb I wanted to do.
I teamed up with Michael Covington, one of the top climbers in the state at the time. He grew up in Steamboat Springs and was living near Allenspark, in the shadow of Longs Peak. Michael was another Kor protégé like Ament and Dalke, and also a gifted musician with his own band. He was charismatic and gentle, the quintessential flower child. We got along well.
Unlike my first time on the Diamond with Jamie Logan, Michael and I knew what we were doing. As was typical for the times, we planned on a 3-day climb, with two nights out – the first would be on Broadway at the base of the Diamond, and the second would be on a good ledge two-thirds of the way up the wall. This is now called the Yellow Wall Bivy Ledge and is visited by hundreds of climbers every summer doing the Casual Route.
We did the long approach to the base of the East Face, then up the North Chimney schlepping our heavy loads, and arrived on Broadway in good spirits. We fired up our stove for some hot food and drinks and settled-in for a cozy night. The next morning the peak was shrouded in clouds. In those days, there was nothing like today’s weather forecasts so we had no idea how serious this was. But in general, this would be a very bad omen, as weather generally gets worse over the course of a day on Longs, often culminating in massive afternoon thunder storms. We decided to start up the climb and hope for the best.
Michael Covington leading the second to last pitch on the Yellow Wall
Michael led the first pitch in cold and dreary conditions. I followed quickly, then led the 2nd pitch, and after that Michael turned over the lead to me for the rest of the day. I was climbing faster, and in the cold conditions he thought having me lead would improve our chances. With much anticipation we were approaching the point where the crux 5th pitch launched off rightward across a blank wall. But with the fog we were not sure where to find it.
In 1962 when Kor got to this point the obvious choice would have been to stay in the major crack system he had been following and continue straight to the top. But I am certain that Kor wanted the climb to be harder (remember those Californians) so he left the crack system and found a way up and right, piecing together small features using tied-off knifeblades and rurps. Now for those unfamiliar, R.U.R.P. stands for “Realized Ultimate Reality Piton”. It is the smallest piton ever made – the size of a postage stamp – invented and forged by Yvon Chouinard for the difficult aid-climbing in Yosemite. I’m not sure who gave it the tongue-in-cheek name – presumably Chouinard – but Kor had some of Chouinard’s original hand-made rurps and was no doubt eager to use them on the Yellow Wall.
I craned my neck searching to the right for the signature pitch of the climb, but with the fog I could not make out any features that revealed Kor’s path. Then I spotted a small whitish spec up and right – it looked like a piece of white ¼-inch webbing. I brought Michael up to me and he concurred with my suspicion, so I took off and headed towards the white spec. As I got closer, I could see it was indeed a piece of webbing. Finally, when I was just below it I could see it was the cord on a fixed rurp. I reached up with my finger and pulled down on the cord. Like a knife through soft butter, my finger broke the cord. It was had lost all integrity after 6 years of extreme weathering on the Diamond. Then I pinched the rurp with my finger tips and pulled it right out of the rock. I immediately treasured this find, knowing that it belonged to Kor and was one of Chouinard’s original hand-made rurps, so I slipped it into my pocket as a keepsake.
I finished the much-touted crux pitch without drama and one more easy pitch took us to the beautiful bivy ledge – two feet wide, twenty feet long, and covered thickly with Alpine Avens and King’s Crown. We were only the third party of humans to stand in this spot. As we settled in for the night, the skies above us cleared as the sea of clouds below us receded. We were feeling great because we had escaped the storm and we knew we would finish the climb. It was perfect.
The next day dawned with deep blue skies and bright sunshine, and the final three pitches were pure fun. The climb had turned out to be easier than its reputation, but for me, the most memorable part of the climb was that single piece of fixed gear on the climb – the rurp. If not for that marker, we would probably never have found the crux pitch. I cherished that rurp for many years but eventually donated it to the Access Fund to be auctioned at a fundraiser. It did bring a handsome sum, and is now mounted and framed on someone’s wall, with a short note about its history.
* Rearick actually moved to Boulder shortly after the first ascent of the Diamond and has lived there ever since.
I dug up some of my old climbing gear and still had some rurps. The last time I used a rurp was in 1972 on the 5th Ascent of the Direct Route on Half Dome